


Know Where

by Corvin



Series: Harringrove Camp [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Harringrove for Raices, M/M, Misunderstandings, Not Season 2 Compliant, Underage Drinking, halloween party, mention of Billy's mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 16:17:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20410669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvin/pseuds/Corvin
Summary: For starlaynes on tumblrAfter getting his heart broken by Billy years ago, Steve comes face to face with him again at a Halloween Party. This is what follows.





	Know Where

**Author's Note:**

> Always meant to do this, but now I'm doing it for a good cause. 
> 
> This is not beta read.

The first thing that happened was Billy exhaling a cloud of smoke into Steve’s face. Then he leaned through it and quietly said, “this doesn’t look like Chicago.” 

Steve pulled off his sunglasses, but had no idea what to say once he did. Billy stared at him with the most vicious look, so incredibly different from the sweet baby angel he’d been at camp. 

Now he looked more like one of those animals that went crazy when they smelled blood. Was that a wolf? A shark? 

Then Billy smiled, and Steve mentally settled on wolf-shark. 

Even if Steve wasn’t buzzed and in the midst of a tense evening with Nancy, there was no way he was emotionally equipped to deal with this sudden appearance. 

Then Tommy gestured, and Steve’s eyes followed the motion to where Nancy was approaching the punch bowl in the kitchen. 

“Princess Wheeler finally learn how to party?” came Tommy’s toothless taunt. If anything, Steve was grateful to him for the distraction. 

The steel trap of Billy’s eyes was gone, and Steve made his escape. Tommy and Jonesy roared with laughter behind him, but Steve ignored it. Nancy was already wobbling, but still drinking like she wanted alcohol poisoning. He did his best to push everything else from his mind and focused on Nancy. 

She was angry with him for pulling her arm away from the bowl. He’d already gently argued with her about how much she was drinking, only for her to get more. “What the hell,” she snapped when he successfully took the red cup out of her hand. 

“You’ve had enough, Nance,” he insisted, holding the cup over his head when she reached for it. He expected her to try and argue more, maybe pout, maybe even reach for a different cup; he hadn’t expected her to blow up. 

If Steve was going to describe his worst nightmare, it would go something like: the only boy who he ever loved, that broke his heart, would show up out of the blue. Then he would be there, one of the many partygoers who took notice when the only girl that he had ever loved broke his heart again. 

Nancy’s snarled ‘bullshit’ played over and over in his head as he stormed out of the party. Jonathan would take care of her, like he always did when Steve wasn’t good enough. He was free to run away, lick his wounds, maybe even drink until his worst nightmare felt like just that: a nightmare. 

He didn’t realize he was being followed until he reached his car and began digging in his pockets for his keys. 

Hands shoved his back and Steve stumbled into the side of his car. He whirled around, expecting Tommy, Jonesy, Hell maybe even Nancy. But it was Billy, staring with the same intensity as before, but this time was smiling sharply. 

“Where are you running off to, Chicago?” He asked in a singsong voice. It was deep, sounded smoky which was fitting considering the fresh cigarette in his hand. 

An image of the Billy from camp superimposed over this big, threatening Billy. It added to Steve’s distress that he couldn’t reconcile the sweet boy who took his first kiss to the chain smoking, half-drunk asshole in front of him. 

“I’m going home,” he snapped, keys still in hand. His voice was thick and wobbly, and Steve had the stray thought that it felt weird to be the one crying between him and Billy.

“And home is where exactly,” Billy drawled. 

“Fine!” Steve had to stop himself from throwing his keys down in frustration. One night was all he wanted. Just one night where reality wasn’t full of monsters, where he didn’t have the ghost of a girl in his backyard, where it didn’t feel like his life was crumbling around him. Instead, it was one thing after another piling onto him, and he couldn’t take anything else. “I lied, okay? Happy? But,” he jabs a finger into Billy’s chest. “You lied first!” 

“Bullshit,” Billy grabbed Steve’s wrist and Steve instinctively tried to jerk back at the touch and the word, but he couldn’t break the hold. “You can tell yourself whatever you want, but you don’t get to bullshit me.” 

“Let go,” Steve demanded. He shook his head when Billy blew smoke at him. It stung his eyes and made it harder to keep the tears at bay. “You don’t get to do this to me.” 

“I don’t give a shit,” and at that word, Billy pushed again and pinned Steve against the BMW, “about you anymore.” 

“I know!” Steve tried to shove at Billy’s chest with his free hand. “You made that pretty clear when you wouldn’t even break it off clean.” 

“Oh like Miss Priss in there?” Billy laughed, throwing his cigarette aside so he could grab at both of Steve’s arms. “Yeah, plenty of people heard how clean that was.” 

“Fuck you!” Steve trying to shove at Billy again but his forearms were effectively pinned. 

“So you threw out the picture or what?” Billy’s breath smelled more of beer than smoke when he hissed in Steve’s face. 

“No, because I’m not an asshole like you.” 

Then all of the wild energy surrounding Billy stilled, and he leaned back. He looked upset too, his eyes even getting watery like old times and it made the hot fury in Steve’s chest falter. 

“Get in the car,” Billy said. 

“No!” He argued until his mind fully connected the dots. He’d meant to get into his car, obviously, but he didn’t want to be agreeable to the sort of guy who would claim he was going to give his boyfriend a mailing address and then not. 

Steve struggled, but only succeeded in dropping his keys on the ground. He glared plaintively and accused, “you’re drunk.” 

“For fuck’s sake, get in the car, Harrington!” Billy’s voice was so much deeper now, very good for growling. 

Nothing the examine there. 

“You aren’t allowed in. Your chest is sticky.” In fact, his chest and the front of his jacket were both sticky and smelling strongly of beer. In fact, Steve could see leftover beer still glistening a bit on Billy’s chest in the light from the streetlamp. 

He was starting to mix up feeling heartbroken, angry, and something like-but-definitely-not horny. 

“Shut up,” Billy muttered, looking down between them. Steve heard the jingle of his keys and also looked down to see Billy toeing them. He stayed obediently when Billy bent down and picked them up. 

“Give it.” 

“I need to check something.” Billy kept them. 

“I want to be alone,” Steve sighed. He wanted to go home, eat an entire loaf of bread, and then pass out. He frowned deeply when Billy tipped his chin up. 

“Steve,” Billy said in a much softer voice than he used all night. He was very suddenly in Steve’s face with a soft, syrupy look. “I can be nice or I can be mean. Which one do you want?” 

“Uh, be nice?” Steve sure could go for someone being nice to him tonight. 

“So how about you get in the car and I’ll take you home.” Billy jingled the keys in front of Steve’s face. 

“But－” 

“Steve,” Billy said a little firmer. “Get in the car.” There the sound of his car door unlocking behind him. Steve looked down and saw that Billy had turned the key in the door. 

“Fine. I’m getting in the car,” Steve said despite the fact that Billy was manhandling him out of the way so he could open the door and shove him inside. “But only because I choose to!” 

Billy pinched him until he crawled over to the passenger side. 

“Tell me where to go.” 

Resigning to his situation, Steve crossed his arms and slumped against the window. “Turn right at the stop sign,” he mumbled. “You’re actually taking me home, right?” 

“Long as you don’t piss me off.” 

Steve was tempted to reassert his point that none of the bad blood between them was his fault, but that seemed like the sort of thing that would piss Billy off. Then again, maybe Steve wasn’t good at reading that sort of mood, considering how bad he’d missed the mark with Nancy. 

Billy followed his directions, mostly without comment beyond complaining about the WHAM! tape and turning off the radio. 

He whistled when Steve pointed out his house. “So you’re as rich as I remember.” 

Steve slumped down in his seat. “Everyone was rich there.” 

“Almost.” Billy’s voice was back to a growl and Steve curled against the door so he could pour himself onto the driveway as soon as the car was stopped. 

“I need my keys,” he said from the concrete. 

Billy walked around the car and spared him a single glance before he marched toward the front door. Steve was left with no other option but to pick himself up and follow. 

“Hey man, seriously,” he said, watching Billy try different keys in the door. “I still don’t know why you wanted to come here?” 

Billy got the door open and looked at Steve. “You still have the picture?” 

Right, the picture, the one that lived with Steve’s socks and haunted him every time he needed to put on shoes. Every now and then he felt the temptation to take it out, look at it, remember the good times even if they ended in pain. 

“It’s in my room.” 

“Show me.” 

Steve heaved another sigh. “Sure, why not,” he muttered, elbowing past Billy. Why not dredge up literally every single thing that sucked in his life. If his dad being an asshole could somehow be added to the mix, it would just be the fucking cherry on top. 

He flipped on his light and paused when Billy stood close behind him. 

“It’s kind of a mess,” he started. 

“Show me, Harrington,” Billy poked his back so hard that Steve stumbled forward. 

“Dick,” Steve grumbled. He opened the top drawer and pushed the clothes aside. It hurt, the same as always to see the big blue eyes staring up at him. In a way, it hurt even more now that an older Billy was at his side with a threatening air. 

Steve didn’t even bother pulling it out. He stepped back so Billy could see it and went to sit on his bed. “So, I’m really tired.” 

“See,” the frame was shoved into Steve’s face. “You had it the whole fucking time, so lie to me again－” He stopped when Steve sniffled. 

“Yeah, it’s all I have” Steve stared at their faces. He spent years knowing that he’d never see Billy again. It was almost like a dream that the face in that picture has grown up all buff and scary, and was looming over him. It was almost a dream that he was dumped by the second person he’d thought was the love of his life only twenty minutes ago. 

He looked up to see Billy frowning at him. “This is the original frame.” 

“Obviously,” Steve said bitterly. He was more tired than drunk at that point, so there was a pause before he realized Billy was prying off a couple of the popsicle sticks. “What the Hell, Billy!” he cried, jumping to his feet. 

Billy slipped the polaroid out through the hole he’d made. He held it up, showing Steve the back. There written in blue marker was Billy’s name, followed by an address, and finally with a little heart at the bottom. 

The handwriting was charmingly messy, and the marker had obviously been going dry. 

“No,” Steve whispered in horror. 

There was no fucking way that he’d spent years nursing a broken heart because of－of－ 

“Why the actual hell would you hide it?” Steve demanded. He made a grab for the polaroid, and surprisingly, was allowed take it. 

Billy was grimacing at his hand. “I figured you’d take it out for a real frame…” 

“Why would I take it out?” Steve snapped, holding the picture protectively to his chest. “You made that for me.” 

“Seemed,” Billy grumbled, closing his eyes and looking very pained, “like it’d be cute.” 

Steve could concede that it might have been if he’d ever thought to  _ break  _ the picture frame that his at-the-time boyfriend made for him. Fortunately, Billy looked like he felt as stupid as Steve did.

The summer romance may have fizzled, they were still two boys who were thousands of miles apart, and clearly very different, but at least they could have stayed in touch. The end might not have hurt so much. 

“I was so angry at you,” Billy said quietly. When Steve looked at him, his attention was still on the frame. “I thought you were just like her. Except, at least she called him a couple times after she left.” 

“I wouldn’t have ever done that to you, Billy.” He remembered the story Billy told him back then, the lingering pain of a child whose mother left him behind. Nothing in the world would have stopped a 13 year old Steve from getting to Billy, except apparently a stupid miscommunication. “I wanted to talk to you again so bad.” 

Billy slowly sank down next to Steve on the bed. He looked as tired as Steve felt in that moment, his eyes were shiny, and Steve couldn’t help but think of the night with fireworks overlooking the lake. 

“So,” Steve said after the silence dragged on. “I think you should feel more embarrassed than me.” 

“What?” Billy asked incredulously. 

Steve’s feelings were all over the place at that point, but he found himself grinning as he took the frame from Billy’s hands and slid the picture back inside. For the first time in a very long time, he felt warm looking down at it. “You were supposed to give me your address and you hid it. So…” 

He could see Billy staring at him out of the corner of his eye. Steve smiled wider. 

“Dumbass,” Billy snatched the frame away. “You had it the whole time. This is on you.” 

“You were supposed to write it in the thing,” Steve whined. “With the rings and the clues or whatever.” 

“We didn’t specifically decide on that.” Billy held the picture away when Steve leaned in for it. 

Steve stretched his arm until he was practically leaning across Billy. The proximity between them was close enough to the picture that it made Steve’s lower lip tremble. He looped his arm around Billy’s neck and clutched Billy’s arm with his other arm. 

“I missed you,” he whispered so his voice wouldn’t crack. 

Billy went stiff but when Steve started to pull back, Billy dropped the frame and pulled Steve back to him. 

“I missed you too,” Billy said. “When I wasn’t pissed off you.” 

“I get that.” Steve leaned back, it took a slight tug before Billy let him. He was definitely near tears, and it made his eyes as pretty as Steve remembered. He looked down at Billy’s bare chest, noting the sound it made when he pulled away. “You’re sticky.” 

“You’re drunk,” Billy shoved him back onto the bed. 

Steve laughed. “I was buzzed before, and I’m practically sober now. You’re the guy who chugged beer for 40 seconds.” 

“42, bitch,” Billy grinned, leaning over Steve to jab a finger against his forehead. He tilted his head to the side. “So that girl you were with seemed pissed off about something.” 

The good feelings were immediately gone. 

Steve looked to the side. “Yeah. She’s pissed that I’m bullshit.” 

“Caught that,” Billy’s hand rested on his cheek, making Steve look back at him. “Might have even agreed until recent events clarified some things for me.” He looked at Steve a little harder, the slightest wrinkle forming on his brow. “You’re into girls now?” 

The question made Steve’s face burn. “Well,” he said hesitantly. “I wasn’t into anyone before,” and here it felt strange to say out loud to Billy, “before you. And after that I thought I’d been burned so it was...easier.” 

Billy hummed, stroking Steve’s cheek with his thumb. “But you weren’t burned.” 

“I guess not,” Steve breathed. 

They stared at each other until Steve’s eyelids started getting heavy. But when he shifted, Billy pulled back, licking his lips but looking regretful. “I gotta go,” he said quietly. “Got a curfew.” 

“Oh. So, later?” 

“Tomorrow,” Billy stated. “Or do you think you’ll be too busy with the girl?” 

Steve didn’t want to think about what the next interaction with Nancy would be like. Even if she sobered up and wanted to deny it, that night had simply been airing the dirty laundry that Steve had been trying to ignore. It was a can of worms he wasn’t ready for. 

“You come first.” 

Billy smiled and patted Steve’s cheek, just a smidge too hard like he didn’t want Steve to forget he could be mean. “Good answer. Also you have you give me a ride back to the party.” 

“I’m tired,” Steve groaned.

“Get up, I’m not leaving it there unattended, you fucker.” Billy tugged on him, starting to bodily shove him toward the door. 

“You made me bring you here.” 

“Are you trying to say it wasn’t worth it?” Billy asked, suddenly pressed against his back and feeling very warm and solid. 

Steve shivered as Billy’s breath ghosted against his ear. Billy was the same height as him now, his mouth at just the right height to whisper in Steve’s ear. He gulped. “You’re still sticky.”

“Get moving, Harrington!” 

**Author's Note:**

> I was tempted to immediately have them pick up where they left off, but I feel like they would approach it more tentatively.


End file.
